Working Out West - Lila Rose Page 0,18

anyone threatened my family and friends. I killed to protect. My hands had been bloody on many occasions. The dirtiness did not bother me when it came to protecting me, mine, and what I’d built for my life.

People here were figuring out I didn’t sit back and take shit. I would fight. I would make blood spray if needed, and what they thought never bothered me, as long as it meant they would leave me alone in the end.

I thought I liked being alone. I had Dimitri, a friend I could not see life without.

I didn’t need a companion—a lover.

I was happy. Content.

Then West walked in, and I second-guessed my choice. I wanted someone by my side. I wanted someone to come home to. And I wanted that someone to be him. It surprised me how quickly he had captured me. With that being said, I hadn’t met anyone like him, so I could not have known I would hold feelings for the man in such a short amount of time.

Usually, I preferred dark-haired men with blue eyes. Yet, I did not care that West had blond hair with topaz eyes. Because they were eyes I wanted to stare into all the time. He had a mouth I wanted to take with mine. And a body that was made for me to touch, to hold, to fuck.

I could fall for you.

He had said it. I did not imagine it. Why would he say something like that and then call off our time together? Had it to do with someone, or was there a possibility West was scared about feeling the same way I did? Consumed by one another?

Khristos. A thrill rolled through my gut at the thought.

The phone on my desk started ringing. I wanted to ignore it, but a distraction could be a good idea, or I would end up on West’s doorstep to his shitty little apartment to demand the reason for dropping me.

I stalked over to the desk and answered sharply with “Da?”

“Moy syn,” my mother said into the phone in Russian before she switched to English to add, “I have been trying to call your mobile.”

Moving around the desk, I picked up my phone. “Sorry, Mama, I had it on silent. Is everything all right?”

“Da, I just wanted to see how my boy is.”

“Good. Work always keeps me busy.”

“Stupid work,” she spat in Russian and continued in our home language. “It always keeps all my boys busy. I’m looking forward to seeing you, Adrik. Tell me, do you have someone to introduce to your mama and papa when we come?”

“No, Mama, no one special. As I said, work keeps me occupied too much to have a life outside of it.”

She fell silent. Which couldn’t be good.

Of course, an image of West dropped into my mind. The one of him standing before the counter where he placed his gift for me while blushing.

My chest ached.

I had wanted to take him into my arms and claim his mouth. No one other than my parents or Dimitri had given me a gift outside of my birthday. It pleased me too much. As did his chocolate muffins.

Shaking my head, I called, “Mama?”

“You sound sad, moy mal’chik.” My boy. Out of her sons, I had been the only one who she called her boy. I never asked and she never explained why.

I tensed. “I am fine, Mama. Tired, maybe.”

“Nyet, there is something else.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Mama. Nothing has happened.”

She huffed, and then I heard her cover the phone and have a muffled conversation. I knew who would be nearby. My parents’ love was strong, and they never strayed far from one another.

There was a shuffle, and then through the line was my father. “Adrik, we’re moving up our trip and will be there next week. Do not bother with a hotel. I know you have some free condos you have not leased out in your building. We will stay in one of those.”

“Papa, tell Mama you do not need to move your trip forward. She worries for nothing.”

“Are you crazy? I cannot tell her that. She worries, I worry. She wants, I give. You will learn this when you find your one.”

Sighing, I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I will see you next week then. Text me when you have the details, and I’ll pick you up at the airport. And Papa—”

“Do not fear, son. No one from here will know we are traveling. No harm